Cover of Gods & Monsters
    FantasyRomance NovelYoung Adult

    Gods & Monsters

    by Mahurin, Shelby
    “Gods & Monsters” by Shelby Mahurin is the final installment in the “Serpent & Dove” trilogy, a YA fantasy series blending French-inspired witchcraft, forbidden romance, and political intrigue. Following a devastating loss, protagonist Lou—now possessed by a powerful enemy witch—joins Reid, Beau, and Coco in a quest for vengeance against the dark witch Morgane. Themes of sacrifice, identity, and the blurred lines between good and evil drive the narrative as alliances are tested and divine forces intervene. The novel culminates in a high-stakes battle, resolving the trilogy’s central conflicts while exploring the cost of power and redemption. Its mix of action, mythology, and emotional depth solidifies its place in the YA fantasy genre.

    The chap­ter “Doubt Creeps in” fol­lows Nicholi­na, a dis­em­bod­ied spir­it grap­pling with exis­ten­tial fear and aban­don­ment. With­out a phys­i­cal form, she drifts as a gust of wind or snowflake, search­ing for her body while her mis­tress ignores her. The landscape—barren and unfamiliar—offers no solace, ampli­fy­ing her anx­i­ety. Mem­o­ries of a cas­tle and bridge taunt her, but they’re absent, leav­ing her to con­front the pos­si­bil­i­ty of fad­ing into noth­ing­ness or trans­form­ing into a less­er crea­ture. Nicholi­na clings to the hope that her mis­tress hasn’t for­got­ten her, yet the absence of her body and the mock­ing whis­pers of fail­ure sow seeds of doubt.

    Des­per­ate, Nicholi­na inhab­its a mink’s body to anchor her­self, observ­ing her mistress’s con­ver­sa­tions about Mor­gane and her daugh­ter. The cas­tle even­tu­al­ly mate­ri­al­izes, dam­aged by fire and under recon­struc­tion by white ladies. Nicholi­na sens­es her body’s pres­ence, but the dis­cov­ery is bit­ter­sweet. Her corpse-like form lies neglect­ed on the cold stone floor, not the bed, sym­bol­iz­ing her mistress’s indif­fer­ence. The recur­ring taunt—“You’ve failed, Nicholina”—echoes in her mind, chal­leng­ing her loy­al­ty. Despite her devo­tion, the phys­i­cal neglect and ver­bal barbs force her to ques­tion her place in her mistress’s plans.

    As Nicholi­na rein­te­grates into her scarred, weary body, she reflects on frag­ment­ed mem­o­ries of warmth and love, now dis­tant and alien. The con­trast between her past sense of fam­i­ly and her cur­rent iso­la­tion is stark. She recalls fleet­ing emo­tions bor­rowed from another’s expe­ri­ences, cling­ing to them as proof that love once exist­ed. Yet, her mistress’s cold treatment—leaving her on the floor, devoid of comfort—reinforces her grow­ing sus­pi­cion that she is expend­able. The chapter’s tone shifts from fran­tic search­ing to resigned melan­choly, under­scor­ing Nicholina’s emo­tion­al unrav­el­ing.

    The chap­ter cul­mi­nates in Nicholina’s qui­et despair as she lies motion­less, her unopened eyes sym­bol­iz­ing her sur­ren­der to doubt. The final lines—“Sometimes we think our mis­tress does not want us at all”—capture her trag­ic real­iza­tion. Betray­al lingers as a loom­ing threat, and the warmth she once knew feels irre­triev­able. Nicholina’s inter­nal con­flict between loy­al­ty and self-preser­va­tion mir­rors the broad­er themes of aban­don­ment and iden­ti­ty, leav­ing read­ers to pon­der whether her devo­tion is mis­placed or if redemp­tion remains pos­si­ble.

    FAQs

    • 1. What is the significance of Nicholina’s disembodied state at the beginning of the chapter, and how does it reflect her relationship with her mistress?

      Answer:
      Nicholina’s disembodied state represents her existential fragility and dependence on her mistress. Without a physical form, she describes fading sensations (“no touch, no smell, no taste”) and fears becoming “something helpless and small” like a matagot (a spirit forced into animal form). This vulnerability mirrors her precarious relationship with her mistress, who seems to neglect her—evidenced by Nicholina’s anxious repetition of “our mistress has not forgotten us” as she desperately searches for her body. The chapter reveals a one-sided devotion, as Nicholina clings to loyalty while questioning whether her mistress even wants her (“Sometimes we think our mistress does not want us at all”).

      2. Analyze the symbolic contrast between the “empty bed” and Nicholina’s body on the “hard stone floor.” What does this reveal about her role?

      Answer:
      The empty bed symbolizes rejection and marginalization, while the stone floor underscores Nicholina’s suffering and expendability. Her repeated distress over the “bare” bed contrasts with her resigned acceptance of her body’s placement in a cold, shadowed corner—a physical manifestation of her emotional abandonment. This imagery reinforces her subservient role: though she insists pain is “fleeting,” the scene reveals her mistress’s cruelty (no fire or candlelight is provided) and Nicholina’s internalized oppression. The bed, typically a place of rest, becomes a metaphor for unmet needs, while the floor reflects her diminished worth.

      3. How does the chapter use sensory deprivation to explore themes of identity and belonging?

      Answer:
      Nicholina’s lack of bodily senses (“no blood, no magic, no death”) parallels her emotional and social isolation. As a spirit, she exists transiently—like “wind” or “snow”—but craves the stability of a body and her mistress’s recognition. The absence of warmth (“We do not remember what warm feels like”) mirrors her lost sense of belonging, contrasting with fleeting memories of love borrowed from another character (“Within her we’d felt it”). This deprivation underscores her fractured identity: she is neither fully autonomous nor truly valued by her mistress, leaving her adrift between existence and erasure.

      4. Evaluate Nicholina’s conflicting thoughts about betrayal. How does her denial (“Our mistress would never betray us”) juxtapose with her doubts?

      Answer:
      Nicholina’s defiance against the taunt “They will betray you” reveals cognitive dissonance. While she vehemently rejects the idea of betrayal, her actions betray deeper uncertainty—she hides in a mink’s body, avoids other witches, and later questions her mistress’s care. The repeated mantra “Pain is fleeting” reads as forced reassurance, hinting at suppressed awareness of her expendability. This tension reflects her psychological struggle: she clings to loyalty as a defining trait but cannot ignore the evidence of neglect (e.g., her body left on the floor), foreshadowing a potential crisis of faith.

      5. How does the chapter frame memory as both a source of pain and a means of survival for Nicholina?

      Answer:
      Memory serves dual roles: it torments Nicholina with reminders of lost warmth (“We do not remember love”) yet provides fleeting solace. She fixates on borrowed memories of familial love from another character, using them to cope with her cold reality. However, these memories are bittersweet—they highlight what she lacks. The “lavender and wraiths” she recalls are fragmented, suggesting trauma. Ultimately, memory becomes a fragile tether to humanity, but one that underscores her isolation, as her present existence offers no such comfort. This duality emphasizes her unstable existence between past hope and present despair.

    Quotes

    • 1. “The pain fades without a body, as does all sense of touch, of smell, of taste. There is no blood as we spiral from sea to sky. There is no magic. No death. Here we are … free.”

      This opening passage establishes the ethereal, disembodied existence of Nicholina, capturing the haunting freedom and emptiness of her spectral state. It introduces the central tension of her search for physical form and belonging.

      2. “Your mistress needs her more than she needs you.”

      A recurring taunt that underscores Nicholina’s growing insecurity about her place in her mistress’s world. This line represents the creeping doubt about her worth and loyalty, a key theme in the chapter.

      3. “We are not forgotten. […] Sometimes we think our mistress does not want us at all.”

      These contrasting thoughts bookend Nicholina’s emotional journey in the chapter, moving from desperate self-assurance to painful realization. They capture the core conflict of her relationship with her mistress and her own identity crisis.

      4. “We hold on to that warmth we’d felt when she looked upon her huntsman, her family. […] We do not remember what warm feels like now. We do not remember love.”

      This poignant reflection reveals Nicholina’s longing for human connection and emotion, contrasting her current existence with fleeting memories of warmth. It highlights the tragic aspect of her supernatural existence.

      5. “Our body looks as a corpse in the shadows of the corner. Sickly and pale. Scarred.”

      This visceral description of Nicholina’s physical form symbolizes her deteriorating sense of self and worth. The imagery reflects both her physical and emotional state, abandoned in the cold corner rather than the bed.

    Quotes

    1. “The pain fades without a body, as does all sense of touch, of smell, of taste. There is no blood as we spiral from sea to sky. There is no magic. No death. Here we are … free.”

    This opening passage establishes the ethereal, disembodied existence of Nicholina, capturing the haunting freedom and emptiness of her spectral state. It introduces the central tension of her search for physical form and belonging.

    2. “Your mistress needs her more than she needs you.”

    A recurring taunt that underscores Nicholina’s growing insecurity about her place in her mistress’s world. This line represents the creeping doubt about her worth and loyalty, a key theme in the chapter.

    3. “We are not forgotten. […] Sometimes we think our mistress does not want us at all.”

    These contrasting thoughts bookend Nicholina’s emotional journey in the chapter, moving from desperate self-assurance to painful realization. They capture the core conflict of her relationship with her mistress and her own identity crisis.

    4. “We hold on to that warmth we’d felt when she looked upon her huntsman, her family. […] We do not remember what warm feels like now. We do not remember love.”

    This poignant reflection reveals Nicholina’s longing for human connection and emotion, contrasting her current existence with fleeting memories of warmth. It highlights the tragic aspect of her supernatural existence.

    5. “Our body looks as a corpse in the shadows of the corner. Sickly and pale. Scarred.”

    This visceral description of Nicholina’s physical form symbolizes her deteriorating sense of self and worth. The imagery reflects both her physical and emotional state, abandoned in the cold corner rather than the bed.

    FAQs

    1. What is the significance of Nicholina’s disembodied state at the beginning of the chapter, and how does it reflect her relationship with her mistress?

    Answer:
    Nicholina’s disembodied state represents her existential fragility and dependence on her mistress. Without a physical form, she describes fading sensations (“no touch, no smell, no taste”) and fears becoming “something helpless and small” like a matagot (a spirit forced into animal form). This vulnerability mirrors her precarious relationship with her mistress, who seems to neglect her—evidenced by Nicholina’s anxious repetition of “our mistress has not forgotten us” as she desperately searches for her body. The chapter reveals a one-sided devotion, as Nicholina clings to loyalty while questioning whether her mistress even wants her (“Sometimes we think our mistress does not want us at all”).

    2. Analyze the symbolic contrast between the “empty bed” and Nicholina’s body on the “hard stone floor.” What does this reveal about her role?

    Answer:
    The empty bed symbolizes rejection and marginalization, while the stone floor underscores Nicholina’s suffering and expendability. Her repeated distress over the “bare” bed contrasts with her resigned acceptance of her body’s placement in a cold, shadowed corner—a physical manifestation of her emotional abandonment. This imagery reinforces her subservient role: though she insists pain is “fleeting,” the scene reveals her mistress’s cruelty (no fire or candlelight is provided) and Nicholina’s internalized oppression. The bed, typically a place of rest, becomes a metaphor for unmet needs, while the floor reflects her diminished worth.

    3. How does the chapter use sensory deprivation to explore themes of identity and belonging?

    Answer:
    Nicholina’s lack of bodily senses (“no blood, no magic, no death”) parallels her emotional and social isolation. As a spirit, she exists transiently—like “wind” or “snow”—but craves the stability of a body and her mistress’s recognition. The absence of warmth (“We do not remember what warm feels like”) mirrors her lost sense of belonging, contrasting with fleeting memories of love borrowed from another character (“Within her we’d felt it”). This deprivation underscores her fractured identity: she is neither fully autonomous nor truly valued by her mistress, leaving her adrift between existence and erasure.

    4. Evaluate Nicholina’s conflicting thoughts about betrayal. How does her denial (“Our mistress would never betray us”) juxtapose with her doubts?

    Answer:
    Nicholina’s defiance against the taunt “They will betray you” reveals cognitive dissonance. While she vehemently rejects the idea of betrayal, her actions betray deeper uncertainty—she hides in a mink’s body, avoids other witches, and later questions her mistress’s care. The repeated mantra “Pain is fleeting” reads as forced reassurance, hinting at suppressed awareness of her expendability. This tension reflects her psychological struggle: she clings to loyalty as a defining trait but cannot ignore the evidence of neglect (e.g., her body left on the floor), foreshadowing a potential crisis of faith.

    5. How does the chapter frame memory as both a source of pain and a means of survival for Nicholina?

    Answer:
    Memory serves dual roles: it torments Nicholina with reminders of lost warmth (“We do not remember love”) yet provides fleeting solace. She fixates on borrowed memories of familial love from another character, using them to cope with her cold reality. However, these memories are bittersweet—they highlight what she lacks. The “lavender and wraiths” she recalls are fragmented, suggesting trauma. Ultimately, memory becomes a fragile tether to humanity, but one that underscores her isolation, as her present existence offers no such comfort. This duality emphasizes her unstable existence between past hope and present despair.

    Note